by Joan Jonker
Keeping at a short distance, Corker followed the threesome. He didn’t have to see them, he could hear them. They had loud voices with a vocabulary containing few words that weren’t coarse or blasphemous. And the loudest voice was that of the mother. As the shopkeeper had told Nellie and Molly, they were the family from hell. Corker pitied anyone forced to live near them. Particularly elderly people who would be afraid to complain. The mother was no lady, and the father a lazy good-for-nothing. And the son, apparently, a robber who preyed on all and sundry, especially the most vulnerable who couldn’t fight back. Like Flora Parker. An eighty-year-old woman facing a lad of twenty who would take what she had even if it meant hurting her in the process. And the sad part was, he probably thought he was brave to break into someone’s house.
Corker watched them crossing the main road, their voices still loud enough to cause passers-by to turn their heads and tut in disgust. Corker was disgusted himself at their behaviour. They seemed to think they had the right to do as they pleased, whether it discommoded other people or not. People like them should be made to toe the line like the majority of decent people. A stint in prison would teach them a lesson, and God knows they must have committed enough crimes between them to warrant a prison sentence.
The noisy trio were nearing a pub on the corner of a street opposite, and Corker muttered under his breath, ‘They’re going into Les Simpson’s, so Bill was right. I’ve a good mind to go in the pub and tell Les Simpson what I think of him. He’d lose a lot of trade if his customers found out he was not only allowing stolen goods to be sold in his pub, but he was taking a share of the profit.’ And the customers would find out, Corker vowed. But his priority tonight was to discover the routine of the Blakesley boy. Did he stay in the pub with his parents? Or was he a cat burglar, who used the darkness of the night to carry out his crooked deeds?
Once again, Corker muttered under his breath. ‘I should have asked Jack to come. He could have kept a lookout here, while I followed the lad. Then if I lost sight of him, Jack would know if the parents waited in the pub for him, or if they’d arranged to meet him back home. Still, it’s too late to be thinking of that now, so I may as well stand in the doorway of the sweet shop opposite, and see what transpires.’
As he crossed the road, Corker was telling himself it was a good job he’d done what Ellen had insisted on, and that was make sure he had the right clothes on. He needed to be well wrapped up if he was to spend a couple of hours keeping watch. It wasn’t raining, thank goodness, but the night air was cold. He’d chance lighting a cigarette later, but for now his main concern was keeping his eyes on the pub opposite. If he let his guard down, even for a few seconds, he could miss the lad who was used to being a sneak in the night. A lad whom he intended to teach that if you hurt and rob an elderly lady, frightening the life out of her, then you owed a debt to society which you must be made to pay.
Corker had been standing in the shop doorway for an hour when Sid Blakesley slipped out of the pub door. He looked left and right, then pulled the collar of his coat up before turning into the street at the side of the pub. Corker didn’t intend to follow him tonight; he only wanted to know that Nellie’s friend in the shop had the facts right on his routine. He knew now that the lad would leave the pub each night after spending an hour with his parents. He’d be alone tonight, but this time tomorrow night there would be someone waiting for him.
Chapter Seventeen
‘We’ve no time for a cup of tea this morning,’ Molly said when she opened the door to Nellie. ‘We’ve too much to do.’
‘Ah, ay, girl, don’t be so miserable. It would only take about twenty minutes, and we’re not that pushed for time.’
‘Yes, we are, sunshine, If we’re going to Paddy’s market, as planned, then we’ve no time to sit jangling. I want to nip up to Jill’s to see they’re all right, then over to Doreen’s to ask after Bobby and get her shopping list. Then there’s our own shopping to do, as well.’
‘Just one cup of tea, girl, that’s not too much to ask for.’ Nellie put on her most innocent smile. ‘Me throat is so dry I can hardly speak.’ And as an added enticement, she said, ‘I’ll wash the cups afterwards.’
‘There’ll be no cups for yer to wash, sunshine, ’cos we’re not going to dirty any. And no amount of coaxing or pained expressions will make me change me mind. So stay there until I put me coat on and get me bag and keys.’
Nellie changed from one foot to the other as she waited on the pavement. ‘It’s coming to something when yer best mate can’t be bothered to make yer a cup of tea. If I die of thirst, that’ll teach her not to be so mean. And it’ll serve her right when she’s got no best mate.’
‘I heard that, Nellie,’ Molly said as she stepped down on to the pavement and pulled the door shut. ‘If I ask yer a simple question, will yer give me an answer?’
‘I will if I know the answer, girl.’
‘If you are so thirsty, why didn’t yer have a cup of tea before yer left the house? That’s what I would have done if I was so thirsty.’
‘Because I thought you’d be making one as usual. What’s the point in tiring meself out when I don’t have to?’
‘So yer thought yer’d tire me out instead, did yer?’ Molly was determined not to laugh, even though she could see the funny side. ‘So, it’s Molly Bennett the workhorse, is it?’
‘Now don’t be so bleeding bad-minded, girl. I didn’t say nothing about any horse.’
‘You didn’t have to, sunshine.’ Molly turned Nellie round so she was facing the houses opposite. ‘Your face is a mirror of your brain, and I know yer were calling me all the miserable so-an-sos going. But yer’ll be thanking me later, when we’ve got time to stroll around Paddy’s market at our leisure, knowing all the shopping and housework is done, and the dinner prepared. You’ll be thankful that yer’ve got a mate who is very organized.’
‘I don’t think Doreen would agree with yer on that, girl, ’cos she’s been waving to yer for the last ten minutes.’
Molly lifted her eyes to see her daughter standing on the step of the house opposite. ‘I didn’t see yer there, sunshine. I was too busy talking to Nellie.’ She linked her mate’s arm and they crossed the cobbles. ‘A little matter of a cup of tea, that’s all.’
Nellie wasn’t letting her off so easily. ‘Don’t yer mean the absence of a cup of tea? Go on, tell yer daughter how yer wouldn’t let me over the threshold, and yer refused point-blank to give me a drink, even though I told yer I was gasping for one.’
Doreen folded her arms and leaned against the doorjamb. ‘I’m sure me mam had her reasons, Auntie Nellie. She wouldn’t do it just for spite.’
Nellie wagged her head from side to side. ‘Yer don’t only take after yer mam in looks, girl, yer take after her in – er – in … oh, what’s the bleeding word I’m looking for?’ She looked to Molly for inspiration. ‘It’s one of those long words what I can never remember. But I’ll know it when I hear it.’
Doreen was glad of a laugh. The baby had kept her awake most of the night, but thankfully he was sleeping peacefully on the couch now. ‘Mam, have yer got time to go through every word in the dictionary? Yer could be here all day.’
‘I think I can help Nellie out, ’cos I’m used to her forgetting words.’ She smiled down at her mate. ‘Yer said Doreen didn’t only take after me in looks, and that’s where yer got stuck. Perhaps what yer wanted to say was that she didn’t only take after me in looks, but in temperament as well. Is that right, sunshine?’
‘That’s the word, girl, yer got it first time.’ Nellie winked at Doreen. ‘What would I do without your mam, girl? It doesn’t bear thinking about. I’d have to go in shops and point to what I want. You know, like sign language. Just point a finger and grunt.’
‘You could write it down on a piece of paper, Auntie Nellie, and just hand the paper over to the shop assistant. And make sure yer’ve got the right money with yer.’
‘Don’t be encouraging her, su
nshine,’ Molly said. ‘She’ll keep yer talking, even though she knows we want to get our shopping over quickly so we can go to Paddy’s market. The drawback with Nellie is that she wouldn’t worry if we got back late and there was no dinner ready for the workers when they got home.’
‘If yer mean I’m not worrying meself into an early grave, girl, then I’ll agree with yer. You can be too fussy, yer know, and it’s not good for yer health. And if the dinner wasn’t ready when George came in from work he wouldn’t think it was the end of the world.’ Nellie’s chins moved with her head. ‘No, he’d just light a cigarette, make himself comfortable in his fireside chair and open the Echo.’
‘Well, he won’t need to do that tonight because we’ll be home by half three if it kills me. So if yer’ve got yer shopping list ready, sunshine, pass it out and we’ll be on our way. And I’m sorry yer had a bad night with Bobby, but keep yer chin up and remember he’ll be back to normal in a few days.’
‘How did you know Doreen had a bad night with the baby?’ Nellie was looking quite indignant when she glared at Molly. ‘Are yer a ruddy mind reader as well as everything else? I bet that when God was giving gifts out, you pushed yer way to the front of the queue. And while I was asking for a good man, and a voluptuous body, you were asking for a ruddy dictionary.’
‘You’re a bad-minded so-and-so, Nellie McDonough. For your information I was seeing Jack and Ruthie off to work this morning – same as usual – when Phil came out. I asked about the baby and that’s how I know Doreen didn’t get much sleep. That’s all I know, for Phil was in a hurry to catch his usual tram so he wouldn’t be late for work.’ Molly gave Doreen a sly wink. ‘And what a pity I can’t get you to hurry like Phil did! The difference is, you couldn’t care less whether ye’re late or not. You wouldn’t hurry if yer backside was on fire.’
‘Ah, now, come on, girl! I’d definitely move like lightning if me backside was on fire. Especially right this minute, ’cos I’ve got me pink knickers on, and I’d have them off in a flash in case they got scorched.’
Doreen was tickled as her mind took in the scene. ‘Yer mean, Auntie Nellie, that yer’d take yer knickers off in the street where all the neighbours could see yer?’
‘Sod the neighbours, girl! My pink knickers mean more to me than they do. I can’t see them clubbing together to buy me a new pair, can you?’
‘No more than I can see you buying them a new pair if the occasion ever arose.’ Molly could imagine Nellie’s reaction if she was asked to contribute anything towards a collection for one of the neighbours. It was hard going trying to get money off her towards a wreath when there was a death in the street. She’d stump up in the end if it was Molly doing the collecting, but as she was handing the money over she would mumble under her breath that she didn’t see the point of buying flowers for someone who couldn’t see them. A bottle of milk stout on their deathbed would have been more sensible, then they’d have been in a happy mood when they met Saint Peter.
‘Get yer shopping list for us, sunshine,’ Molly said. ‘Otherwise we’ll never make it to the market. It must be nearly half an hour since Nellie knocked on me door, and we’ve achieved nothing. Nowt, zero, sweet Fanny Adams.’
‘Ooh, er, she’s getting mad now, girl,’ Nellie said. ‘I’d do as yer were told if I was you. When yer mam gets one of these moods on, there’s no telling what she’ll do. So poppy off and get yer list, just to keep her sweet, like.’
The two mates were standing at the tram stop, waiting for the twenty-two tram which would drop them off near Paddy’s market. All their chores had been done, and they’d decided on bacon and egg for the evening meal because it didn’t need any preparation.
‘How did yer say Corker got on last night, girl? It’s gone completely out of me head.’
Molly raised an eyebrow. ‘How could something I didn’t say go completely out of yer head, sunshine?’
This reply needed some working out, and Nellie’s face was still screwed up when the tram they needed came trundling along.
‘Get on the tram, sunshine, and by the time it comes to our stop, yer’ll have figured it out.’
Puffing and blowing, Nellie pulled herself on to the platform and glared at the driver. ‘If you were a gentleman, yer’d have got off yer backside and given a lady a hand up.’
The driver knew her well enough to smile while he told her, ‘There are times during me shift that I do get off me backside to give a lady a helping hand, Nellie. That’s when the lady is young, slim and good-looking. If I gave you a helping hand, I’d do me back in, and I’d be off work for a month. So yer see, Nellie, I’m not only a gentleman, I’m clever with it.’
‘You cheeky sod.’ Nellie shook a fist. ‘You wait till I tell my feller what yer said, and he’ll come and sort you out.’
The driver, name of Dave, looked at Molly. ‘What’s her husband like?’
Molly gave a description of Corker, the biggest man she knew. ‘He’s six foot five inches, hands like ham shanks and built like a battleship. He’d only have to blow on you, Dave, and yer’d hit the ground hard.’
Dave, who was determined to finish this exchange despite the rumblings from the passengers behind him, smiled at Nellie. ‘I was pulling yer leg, queen, to cheer meself up. We don’t get many passengers we can have a laugh with, like you. The conductor is upstairs collecting fares, but he’ll tell yer himself when he comes down, we enjoy having a laugh with you.’
Is he pulling me leg, Nellie asked herself? Shall I give him a kiss, or thump him one? Better do neither, she silently answered herself. Molly wouldn’t approve of either. So nodding to the driver, and ignoring the sighs of relief from the passengers who had visions of being late for wherever they were going, Nellie made her way down the aisle. A hand on the back of the seats either side, she swayed with the motion of the tram until she came to an empty seat. ‘You get in first, girl. I’m more comfortable on the outside. And I’ve got the fare in me pocket, so yer don’t have to fiddle in yer purse. You can pay on the way back.’
When they were comfortably seated, or as comfortable as they could be with Nellie’s bottom taking up most of the double seat, she said to Molly, ‘Now yer can tell me how Corker got on last night, girl.’
Molly rested her head against the window and told herself to keep calm. So she counted slowly up to ten before answering. ‘I didn’t see Corker this morning, sunshine, so I have no idea how he got on.’
‘Didn’t yer see him going out to work? Funny that, when yer were at the door waving Jack and Ruthie off. And yer saw Phil and had a word with him.’
‘Well, I’m sorry to disappoint yer, Nellie, but I don’t stand at the door very long because I’m not dressed properly. Sometimes, when Jack is running late, I’ve only got a cardi on over me nightie, and if I stood at the door too long in a state of undress, I’d be the talk of the neighbourhood.’
When Nellie’s body began to shake with laughter, every head turned towards her. And Molly could feel her cheeks burn when her mate said, in a voice everyone could hear, ‘Oh, they’d have a ball, girl. They’d think it was a knocking shop.’ Molly wished the tram was nearing a stop so she could jump off. But it wasn’t, and she couldn’t. So she had no option but to stay put and listen to Nellie’s sense of humour running in full flow.
‘Ay, can’t yer see it, girl? Every morning about the same time, all the doors in the street would open and the wives would step out with their husbands. They’d march them to the tram stop, and make sure they got on the tram and didn’t try to sneak off. And you’d be the talk of the town.’ Nellie’s hearty laughter brought a smile to the faces of all the men on the tram. The women turned to look through the windows, as though they hadn’t heard a word.
The conductor rang the bell and called, ‘Next stop is Paddy’s market.’
‘Are we going straight to Mary Ann’s stall, girl, or looking at the stalls what sell new things?’ Nellie turned her body sideways so she could look at her mate’s face. ‘We m
ight see something we like.’
‘We can’t go to Mary Ann’s carrying bags with new clothes in, not when she’s kept us going in nearly new clothes for years. It would be like a slap in the face to her.’ Molly’s face showed determination. ‘No, I wouldn’t do that to her, even if I had money to buy clothes, which I haven’t. We’ve only come to let them see we haven’t forgotten them, and ask Sadie about her wedding. I hope we haven’t missed it, I wanted to buy her a wedding present. Nothing fancy, like, but just a token to say how grateful I am for how good she’s been. And if she’s got anything put away on her superior quality stall that I fancy, I might just go mad and treat meself.’
‘You’ve just said yer’ve got no money, girl.’
‘I haven’t got money for new clothes, not with Ruthie’s birthday coming up. But if Sadie had a nice second-hand dress for a shilling, then I might indulge meself.’
‘Ay, girl, that’s a good idea.’ Nellie’s face became animated. ‘Our gang are going out the night of Ruthie’s party, so it would be nice to get dressed up for a change. Yer never know where we’ll end up.’
‘It won’t be anywhere posh, sunshine, that’s a dead cert. But I don’t care if it’s only the pub on the corner, we always have a good laugh there. And although no one is going to even notice what we’ve got on, I think I’d feel better if I wasn’t wearing a dress everyone has seen me in loads of times.’
When Nellie began to rub her hands in glee, the basket over her arm delivered several blows to Molly’s hip before she had time to distance herself. ‘Ooh, I hope Sadie’s put one away for me, like she usually does when one comes in in my size. We’ll be the belle of the ball.’
Molly opened her mouth to say they couldn’t both be the belle of the ball, but she asked herself would it be worth trying to explain that to her mate? Single and plural would be a foreign language to Nellie. Then suddenly Molly thought of something that had her chuckling. She could see, in her mind’s eye, the little woman looking at her with her eyes narrowed as she tried to make sense of what she was being told. Then in her own inimitable way, she’d shrug her shoulders and say, ‘Pull the other one, girl, it’s got bells on.’